


These Lonely Halls

by galia_carrots



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 02:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16609877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galia_carrots/pseuds/galia_carrots
Summary: After returning from Winterfell, Benjen and Jeor sit down to dinner and for once don't feel so alone.





	These Lonely Halls

Typically Benjen Stark ate with the other men of the watch, usually the ones he’d been recruits with, men like Alliser Thorne and Donell Noy, sometimes Lord Commander Mormont joined them, but nights like tonight it was as though Jeor knew. It was as though he’d sensed Benjen’s anxieties about having his young nephew on the wall and in true Mormont fashion invited him to dine with him privately. 

Shrugging his bear skin cloak off and hanging it by the door Benjen steps into the warmth of the older man’s rooms. The wind howled outside and the snow which had settled in his hair and beard began to melt, he let a tense sigh pass his lips as he tried to relax a little. Jeor would worry if he saw how truly tense Benjen was. 

“Ben,” Jeor smiles, appearing from the study, holding a few maps. “Just let me give these to my steward, you know you’re welcome to sit.” 

“I know and you know I prefer to stand.” Benjen mutters. 

“And you know I won’t have it. We’ve known eachother far too long and grown far too close for you to be standing - even when tense.” Jeor says, walking past him and giving Ben’s hand a quick squeeze with his free one. 

With a slight scowl benjen knows he’s right. Jeor often called it the Stark habit, the pacing when anxious or tense, Benjen didn’t really know if that was true, it had been so long since he’d seen his brother tense, and Lyanna had been dead fourteen years - but none of that changed how Jeor referred to it. 

He sits down on one side of the small table next to the fire, leaning back in the chair and looking over at the mantle. Atop the simple stone mantle sits a small wood carved bear, a smile crosses his face, no matter how he’s feeling looking at that bear always makes him smile. 

“It’s been what, five years now since you gave me that?” Jeor says, noting where Ben’s eyes look as he sits down across from him. 

“Six I think - maybe seven.” He shrugs. “I made it the last time you went away to the Shadow Tower whenever that was.” 

“Come on Stark.” Jeor chuckles. “You know I’m too old to remember that.” 

“You’re not that old.” Benjen mutters. 

“Too old for you any how.” Jeor says, he’s always said that, but Ben holds back his retort as one of Mormont’s stewards sets the food down in front of him. It’s the pock marked one, Benjen can never remember their names. Either how he tried to avoid being around Mormont much in their presence, they were far less open than the previous too. Even Jeor seemed to have noticed this as he’d made it a point to have them around as little as possible when he wanted to spend time with Benjen. 

The boy leaves and then Benjen can finally respond. “You’re not too old for me. You’ve been saying that nigh on fourteen years now and when has that ever changed a damned thing?” 

“You’re right,” Jeor shakes his head. “You’re right, you starks are damned stubborn you know that.” 

“Well I like to think of myself as good at seeing something through but we can go with stubborn if you like.” Ben grins. 

“I prefer stubborn.” Jeor says. “Noticed yer nephew came with you this time, and you don’t seem none too thrilled about it.” 

“Well,” Ben sighs. “He’s young. Very young, and I don’t think he understands what this sort of life truly entails. I mean, he’s never so much as kissed a girl much less lay with one.” 

“Neither had you when you joined up.” Mormont points out, taking his knife to the slab of meat the cook had prepared. 

“Well,” Benjen turns red. “That’s different, I don’t think Jon shares our particular preferences Mormont.” 

“Most don’t.” Jeor shrugs. “But having lay with a woman or not it doesn’t matter, if the boy thinks he can handle it he can.” 

“Doesn’t have much choice.” Ben shrugs. “My brother’s wife sent him up here, said she wouldn’t have him at Winterfell with Ned gone. It’s a bit harsh given that he’s a full four months younger than her own son, and at the very thought of him riding off anywhere without her she’s practically in tears.” 

“This wife is Catelyn Tully isn’t she?” Jeor asks. 

“Yes.” Ben mutters. “And I’ve never been particularly fond of her. She never much liked me either, but the way she treats that boy is entirely unfounded. Bastard or no he’s a child - and children belong at home not on the wall.” 

“We’ve had younger boys on the wall.” Mormont frowns. “I seem to recall another certain stark named Benjen was made Lord Commander at ten.” 

“That’s entirely different.” 

“Is it?” 

“Yes.” 

“How?” 

“When that happened the Nights Watch was still in its hay day. Knights gave up their shields and banners to join, now a days it’s mostly criminals and the occasional third or fourth son.” Benjen shakes his head. “Jon doesn’t understand that, he still seems to think it’s a place of glory and honor.” 

“It is.” Jeor frowns. “In it’s own way.” 

“I know it is, you know it is, and sooner or later Jon will know it is too.” Ben agrees. “But the way it comes about that honor is different then what he’s expecting I fear. He may be a bastard, and I’m not saying he’s had an easy life, but he’s had it a hell of a lot easier than any of the other recruits.” 

“So had you at one point.” Jeor says. “Now look at you, first ranger.” 

“Yes but first I had to learn some harsh lessons. Lessons I’m still not sure I was entirely ready for and lessons I know Jon isn’t ready for.” Ben sighs. 

“Ben,” Jeor says firmly. “You’ve got to let the boy find his feet. He will, they always do, and if they don’t well… you know as well as I do that just spells a quicker end.” 

“I’d prefer not to think of my nephew's head on some wildling spike.” Ben mutters. “But I know, you’re right.” 

“Usually am.” Jeor chuckles. 

“Oh shut up not always.” Ben mutters. 

“Just most of the time.” Jeor takes another bite of his food. “How was Winterfell?” 

“Lonely.” Ben admits, taking a bite of the beans in front of him. “It’s always lonely.” He knows he doesn’t have to explain to Jeor why. He loves his family very much, his brother, his nieces and nephews, but Winterfell hadn’t been the same since his sister left. He’d been but eleven when she left, thirteen when she died and fourteen he’d ridden for the wall, leaving not but a note for his brother. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” Jeor admits. “The position of Lord Commander is as lonely as those halls of winterfell I swear it to you.” 

“It doesn’t have to be.” Benjen says, reaching under the table to take his hand. “You have me. I’ll be damned if I’ll let you be lonely.” 

“You were always too good to me Stark.” Jeor smiles, squeezing his hand. “Can you stay tonight?” 

“I don’t see why I couldn’t.” Ben mutters. “We’ll just have to lock your squire out and hope that damned bird of yours wakes me up early enough to slip out without suspicion.” 


End file.
